Brambles
by nenya62189
Summary: A conglomeration of various fluffs, drabbles, one-shots, song fics, musings, bromances, etc. Updated occasionally.
1. A Good Day

**All original characters and storyline belong to Scott Westerfeld; I own nothing!**

**:)**

_It's going to be a good day, _Alek thought to himself.

"Papa?"

_I'm going to make this be a good day. _Perhaps if he kept repeating it the pounding headache brought on by lack of sleep would leave.

"Papa!"

Alek sighed and opened his eyes. Inches from his face were a pair of big, blue eyes peeking at him from underneath a mass of auburn hair. He was exhausted, having been up nearly the entire night with their fussy four year old daughter. Currently, the twin of said four year old was standing beside their bed, poking Alek in the forearm.

"Yes, Artemis?" he asked, closing his eyes again. When he didn't respond, he looked at him and the boy looked away sheepishly. Alek recognized this look. Mischief.

"Artemis, what is it?" he asked again while sitting up, trying to muster up some energy and patience. A good deal of both had been exhausted from the night before.

"I can't find my ball; I think I've lost it in Mrs. Erskine's garden," he said quietly.

Mrs. Erskine was the Hohenberg's older and especially cranky neighbor. She kept a magnificent garden, one that seemed to constantly attract nearly all of Artemis' toys. She was feared equally by both of the children.

"I'll ask her for it later, Artemis," Alek answered through a yawn.

"Sophie's throwing another tantrum."

Alek sighed. Despite being only being only four, Sophie threw the most extravagant meltdowns. (The one last night was exceptional; her determination was almost impressive.)

"Where is your mother?" he asked, rubbing his temples.

Artemis stood on his tippy toes and peeked over Alek. She was still in bed beside him, asleep. With the latest addition to the family due for arrival in a few months, she was always tired. It had been a bit of a rough pregnancy for her, too. And it wasn't any easier having two busy children to chase after constantly. Alek loved his children; he loved his life and everything about it, and tried to be helpful as often as he could for Deryn, but this morning he wasn't feeling particularly enthusiastic.

"Artemis, what time is it?"

The little boy thought for a moment, as if counting in his head, and held up two fingers.

Alek frowned. The sun shining in through the curtains told him it definitely wasn't two o'clock. "Can you please hand me the clock?"

The little boy picked up the clock (straining from the weight of it) from the nightstand, and heaved it up onto the bed beside Alek.

"Let's look together," Alek said as he scooped the boy up into his lap and looked at the clock with him. He'd been trying to teach the Twins how to tell time recently, and Artemis had been catching on quite well. He was a studious little boy, with a hint of mischief and a great liking for adventure.

"See," he began, "the big arrow tells you what hour it is. Can you tell which number the big arrow is pointing at?"

Artemis studied the clock for a moment; brow furrowed, and answered, "Seven?"

"Yes, good job!" Alek replied kissing his son on top of his head. "It's seven o'clock."

Seven. He was supposed to meet Doctor Barlow at the train station in half an hour. She was coming to visit, as well as perform a check-up on Deryn. The last time he had been late, and she wasn't pleased.

Alek cursed to himself inwardly (Artemis, at age four, already knew more swears than Alek had at fifteen, and that was plenty). "I'm going to be late!" he said while reaching to the floor for yesterday's clothing. He scooped Artemis up with one arm and raced downstairs to the kitchen.

"Papa!" Sophie moaned from the floor. Her blonde curls were wild, shooting out in all directions. She was a spitting image of her mother, except for the eyes. She had Alek's bright, emerald eyes. Both of their children were perfect combinations of the two of them, Alek thought.

She saw him and wrapped herself around Alek's leg, weeping bitterly.

He expertly stuck an apple into Artemis' mouth and set him down at the table. He limped to the stove (Sophie hanging on tightly) and put the kettle on. He was going to need tea this morning; strong tea at that. He pried Sophie from his leg and set her on the counter.

"Sophie, what is it?" he asked while he went about to getting some bread for Artemis.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Bovril won't play with me!" she wailed.

Alek looked up to the top of the cupboards where the loris sat. Its eyes were wide with fear.

"Did you try to put Bovril in one of your doll dresses again? You know Bovril doesn't like that."

She wrapped her arms around her father's neck and wailed. Being four was apparently much more difficult than Alek remembered.

Bovril slithered away, muttering to itself. "Nasty, being stuffed into a dress."

Alek placed the toast in front of Artemis and set Sophie down in a chair. The child looked positively forlorn.

"Sophie," he said, moving a piece of hair from her face, "sometimes Bovril just doesn't want to play. Sometimes you and Artemis don't want to play together, right?"

She nodded reluctantly (Artemis did so with a bit more enthusiasm).

"Maybe Bovril just wants to be alone for a little while," he said. She opened her mouth to protest, but Alek quickly added, "Here, I'll get you some paper and you can draw."

He moved to the squealing kettle and glanced at the clock. "Artemis, can you please go upstairs and wake Mummy up? I've got to go!"

Artemis swallowed the last bit of apple and trudged up the stairs obediently. Alek guzzled down as much tea as he could without burning his throat. It wasn't ready and was still boiling hot, but he didn't have time to wait.

"Papa, I'm hungry."

He held back a sigh of frustration and moved quickly for a glass. He filled it with milk and set it down in front of Sophie. He found a bowl in the sink which he filled with oats and some hot water from the kettle and stirred and mashed it around. He plopped it down in front of her.

"Blisters! Is it seven already?" he heard Deryn say from upstairs.

She was up. Good; he could finally get going. He ran for his coat and bag and was just opening the door when –

"Papa!"

He let out a sigh.

"Yes, Sophie?"

She smiled at him sweetly from the table. "You forgot to kiss me goodbye!"

He couldn't help but smile bit.

"Be a good girl for Mummy today, all right?" he said as he wiped a bit of oatmeal from her face and leaned down to plant a kiss on her cheek.

She nodded contentedly. "Aren't you going to say goodbye to Mummy?"

Deryn usually saw him off every morning. She was bound to miss a morning sometime. "Tell her for me, all right? I've got to go get Auntie Nora!"

And with that, he was finally out of the house.

Still, though, Alek felt a twinge of disappointment as he walked across the porch.

No, that was silly. He'd see her when he got home.

"Alek!" came Deryn's voice from behind.

He turned to see her still in her nightgown, hair wild and unkempt, face glowing. She looked lovely. Before he could speak, she shoved him against the side of the house, pinning him there, and kissed him.

She kissed him like there was no tomorrow, as if it was their first and their last, like they'd never see each other again.

She broke away when Sophie came running out of the house in tears crying about something Artemis had done, clinging to Deryn's leg. But she was undeterred.

Alek smiled against her mouth. "Thank you, _liebe_; I needed that."

"Have a good day, love," she said, pressing her lips to his twice more.

She scooped Sophie up and went back into the house.

Alek left the porch with a new spring in his step grinning like a loon. He even waved to Mrs. Erskine as he walked past her garden.

_This is going to be an excellent day._


	2. Does Your Mother Know?

**Thank you to all who review on my last entry! :) Each of you is awesome! :D :D :D**

**C: I'm so glad to hear from you! :D I like Artemis, too. :) I've got a little story about him I'm working on!**

**Guest: YOU'RE awesome! Thank you; I'm so glad you liked it. :)**

**Sassysplash: Thank you! It was super fluffy, wasn't it? I'm sorry; I just couldn't help myself. :D**

**All characters and original storyline belong to Scott Westerfeld; I own nothing!**

The young sailor walked across the pub slowly, stopping once to examine his destination.

She was tall and slender; her blonde hair once cropped in a boyish fashion now fell just below her ears, slight curls here and there. Bright blue eyes and sharp features adorned her face. She was wearing trousers and a loose-fitting white button down with the sleeves rolled up; simple, yet very daring for a lady. Though she might have been dressed like one, there was no mistaking her for a man. Not even the clothes could hide her feminine figure underneath. He noted the contour of her back, how she crossed her legs at the ankle, the smooth curve of her waist. She was undoubtedly a lady and undoubtedly beautiful.

She had come in an hour earlier, dripping wet from the rain. She sat alone at the bar quietly, like she hadn't a care in the world. Perhaps she had come in for shelter from the relentless downpour outside.

Whatever the reason, the sailor had found himself slightly smitten and quite interested with her.

He cleared his throat and walked up to the bar.

"Evening," he said, trying to put on his most convincingly suave voice.

She didn't look at him. "Hello."

He turned towards her, resting his elbow on the bar and motioning to the bartender. "Can I buy you a drink?"

It was a stupid question: she already had a half-empty glass of whiskey in her hand. But she didn't acknowledge that, instead she turned and looked him up and down. He felt nervous under her gaze.

She looked at him wryly. "Does your mother know that you're out, lad?"

He sputtered. His pride was only temporarily bruised, though, for he was often told he looked much younger than his mere 17 years. This lady looked older than he, probably late 20s, but that didn't discourage him. And his mother didn't know he was out, nor would she approve of him being so.

"No lady should drink alone," he said, trying to regain his composure.

"Who says I'm alone?"

He looked down the empty bar in response.

"Maybe I'm waiting for someone," she added.

"Then he's a fool for being late," he answered back.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Fair enough," she said as she gulped down the contents of her glass in a single, impressive swig.

The bartender slid a glass of whiskey in front of the young man. He tried to take an equal gulp but nearly choked, so he settled to keep talking instead.

"I know who you are," he said, trying to be suave and not sound like a scoundrel that had been tracking her every movement since she'd arrived.

"Do you?" she answered flatly and unimpressed.

"You're Miss Deryn Sharp."

She smiled, like she knew something he didn't. "Aye. I haven't been called by _that_ name in a while. Not all of it at least."

He didn't understand what this meant, but had her smiling, so he took that as encouragement and kept going.

"You have the loveliest eyes, you know."

She turned around on the stool and leaned back, elbows resting on the bar and said to him, "Aye? What else about me is lovely?" (He unfortunately didn't pick up on the mocking tone in her voice.)

And so he began describing to her each part of her features he enjoyed so much, feeling proud and accomplished when he stopped. He'd half expected her to slap him for being so forward, but she just sat there, elbows on the bar, smirking.

He smiled back, feeling more confident. If he didn't have her now, it would surely be momentary.

"You know," he said, ignoring the door to the street outside behind him opening and shutting, "they told me you were one to be cautious about."

She threw her head back and laughed. "Did they? It's not _me_ you've got to worry about, lad," she said as she shot a glance behind his shoulder towards the door, smiled, then looked back at him with an amused expression.

A tall, auburn-haired man rushed to her, dripping from the rain. "Sorry I'm late, _liebe_," he mumbled as she pulled him down to kiss her right on the mouth.

She put her hand up to the man's face and it was then that the sailor noticed the glint of gold wrapped around her ring finger.

No, she couldn't be...

The young man swallowed hard and had no choice but to stand and endure the most awkward minute of his life.

He finally cleared his throat, at which the man glanced down at him. His green eyes shone with great displeasure as he studied the sailor. His shirt was soaked, clinging to his prominent, notably large muscles. Muscles much larger than the sailor cared to admit.

"Aye, like I said, it's not me you've got to worry about," she said, leaning towards him. "It's my husband," she added cheekily.

The color from the lad's face drained promptly.

Needless to say, after his encounter with _Mrs._ Deryn _Hohenberg _(Really, it was the confrontation with Mr. Hohenberg that had instilled the lesson), the sailor never spoke to another lady in another pub after that.


	3. Auld Lang Syne

**First things first: thanks so much to Johnsoneer, Cita, bookworm250250, Jett-Wolfe98, Middy Miles, Sassysplash, Spartan Ninja, and Zmusic2014 for the reviews!** **Each of you is wonderful and I lovelovelove to hear from you. :)**

**Now, I know I'm the worst. Zmusic2014 has sent me some AWESOME prompts, and I PROMISE I AM WORKING ON THEM. But I just can't crank out stories until I've got the ending just right, and that's what I'm waiting for. But they're on my computer, mostly written! They have names! I PROMISE I will have them done someday. :)**

**Sassysplash: I think Deryn would have cougarish tendencies if it weren't for Alek. ;) She can have whomever she wants! ;)**

**This one takes place right after Goliath, so it's when they were younger. So I guess this one is kind of for you, Johsoneer! :)**

**All original characters and plotline belong to Scott Westerfeld; I own nothing!**

**:)**

Deryn balanced the plate of food and her sketchbook in one hand precariously as she attempted to open the door with her elbow. It was no simple task, what with a heavy loris sitting on one's shoulder and not offering a bit of help.

"Barking spiders!" Bovril said into her ear.

"Yes, beastie, I heard you the first time," Deryn answered, sticking her tongue out in concentration. It took two tries but on the third the locked finally _clicked!_

_Barking daft prince,_ she thought to herself.

Alek hadn't showed up to the Zoological Society's Christmas party earlier that evening. It had worried Deryn more than she cared to admit, for Alek never forgot these sorts of things and he was only staying on the next floor up. But since Deryn was still disguised as Dylan, she couldn't exactly go scampering after him without looking a wee bit suspicious.

She had duties to perform anyways, such as assisting Doctor Barlow while she schmoozed all of the fancy-boots boffins and also carrying Bovril around for everyone to get all googly-eyed over (until the creature had repeated a certain strand of words and Deryn and the beastie were immediately shooed to another part of the room). The lady doctor had dragged them around, making Deryn listen to boring stories and not letting her drink a single drop of eggnog. Pure dead boring is what it was, and Alek was a complete bum rag for making Deryn endure all of it alone.

She had finally managed to sneak away from the boffin long enough to go up to Alek's room to find it locked and received no answer when she knocked. So, Deryn and Bovril were on their way to the flat rooftop, hoping Alek was up there.

It was a good thing she was in the Christmas spirit, or else Deryn might slug that bum-rag for abandoning her to the dull dinner.

Carefully, she opened the heavy door and scanned the rooftop. Sure enough, sitting just on the edge, was a very Alek-shaped silhouette.

The cold wind hit her face and made Deryn wish she'd worn her coat. How that barking daft prince managed to stay out here without his winter coat was beyond her. Even Bovril shivered atop her shoulder.

The gravel beneath her feet crunched as she walked over to him and plopped down.

His face was aglow with the London city light, making him look especially handsome. Bum-rag. Also quite noticeable was the puffiness of his eyes and the tear stains on his cheeks. His usual gelled hair was slightly mussed, like he had raked his fingers through it as he often did when he was anxious. Deryn recognized this look for she knew it well; she had dealt with the same problem countless times.

"Oh! Hello, Der-"

A wide-eyed warning look from her stopped him before he finished saying her name. Even though they might have been alone at the moment, she didn't want a guard running up to the roof for a quick breath of fresh air to hear.

"I mean, Dylan," he corrected, clearing his throat. "And Bovril. Hello. What are you doing up here?"

"You missed the Christmas party," she said.

A look of disbelief came over his face. "I did?"

"Aye, it was over hours ago! Everyone's down there singing now, so we managed to slither off," she continued, grabbing the plate and passing it to him. "But luckily for you, I saved you some dessert."

Hours ago! Echoed Bovril, jumping from Deryn's shoulder and scampering away.

He took the plate and looked at. "Thank you," he said quietly. He picked at the biscuits and cookies and the slice of cake, feigning interest. "I'm sorry I didn't come, I meant to but I just needed-"

Deryn interrupted him before he could finish. "The first year's always the hardest."

Alek didn't say anything but held her gaze for a moment and then nodded. "Yes," he said, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. "It is."

"If it helps," Deryn said slowly, "I promise it gets easier."

"That does help, thank you," Alek said, looking back down at the plate. "And thank you for this. I'm surprised you managed to save it all," he said, smirking slightly.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile just a little. "Aye, it must be a Christmas miracle."

They were quiet for a moment, listening to the soft singing from inside.

_All is calm_

_All is bright_

"That's an Austrian carol," Alek said.

"Is it?"

He smiled at her, fading softly as he looked back out to the skyline. "I always loved Christmas. It was one of the only holidays when it was just my parents and I. No meetings, hearings, or anything like that; just us. It was always my favorite."

It was a quiet night for London. Aside from the singing inside, church bells were ringing in the distance, clip-clopping came from the cobblestones in the streets below; low chatter was heard here and there. Everyone was most likely inside and celebrating with their loved ones.

Deryn didn't say anything, but reached for her sketchbook instead and tugged out the loose piece of paper. "Here, this is for you."

Alek looked at her with a confused expression. "But I thought we weren't-"

"I wanted to," she said. "Besides, I've been working on it for a month."

He flipped the page over and his eyes widened. Deryn peeked over his shoulder to see if she got the same reaction, though she was used to staring at it now.

She was quite proud of it. It had taken her ages to get the mouths just right and getting the colors right was painstaking. And, of course, the countless practice sketches of the people she had never seen in person took up quite a bit of time. Really they were just guesses, and she did hope they were good.

"Well," she said. "What do you think?"

No response from him made her a wee bit nervous. Maybe she had spent too long on it; maybe she had gotten everything wrong-

"It's perfect," Alek said finally. He looked up at her. "It's absolutely perfect. Thank you so much. What made you think of this?"

"You told me you never had a picture taken together," she said, "so I thought I'd make you one."

He nodded. "No, there aren't any pictures of us, actually." He looked back down at the paper in his hands. "How did you do this?"

Deryn shrugged. "I just went by the picture in your locket and what you told me about your Da. Believe it or not, you were the hardest."

He raised an eyebrow. "Was I?"

Deryn wouldn't admit it, but Alek was actually the easiest. She had long since memorized nearly every feature on his face, the way he smiled, the curve of his nose, even the way that one piece of hair never stayed in place. "Oh, aye. You and your terribly handsome face."

Alek ran his finger lightly over the drawing. "Thank you," he whispered. "This means so much to me, Deryn. I love it." He opened his mouth like he was going to add something else, but hesitated. " I- I love… you, Deryn."

Deryn blinked. No boy had ever told her that he loved her (save for Jaspert, and that was with Ma breathing down his neck). Was she supposed to say it back? She reckoned that she _did_ love him, and quite a lot at that, but now she felt a bit odd saying it back just because he had. Still, though, she didn't want to upset him, especially with the night he'd been having.

"I love you, too," she said quietly.

And without thinking about it, Deryn pressed her mouth to his, grinning; happy. Alek jumped a bit, and then relaxed. She wasn't sure, but Deryn was quite certain she heard a "Barking spiders!" from Bovril.

After a moment, she pulled away and Alek's face was visibly red in the dim light. "That's just what I wanted," she said, not before pressing another quick peck against his lips. "Happy Christmas, Alek."

He smiled back at her. "Happy Christmas, Deryn."


End file.
